


Work Both Ways

by triste



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Future Fic, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-08
Updated: 2013-01-08
Packaged: 2017-11-24 04:45:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/630571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triste/pseuds/triste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“We should do it again. Like, tomorrow. Or maybe in another half hour.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Work Both Ways

Title: Work Both Ways  
Author: Triste  
Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke  
Pairing: Kise/Kuroko  
Rating: NC-17  
Status: Complete  
Disclaimer: Not mine

~~

When Ryouta is away, the house always seems so quiet without him. The bed always feels so empty. It’s why Tetsuya does something incredibly irresponsible by staying up until 2am so Ryouta can call him, even though he knows it will mean getting only four hours of sleep as a result (or less, if Ryouta is in a chatty mood, which he often tends to be). 

Tetsuya should be tired, but he’s not. It’s been five days since he last heard Ryouta’s voice, and longer still since he left on his flight to Europe. He forgets about the time differences between them, but Tetsuya doesn’t mind forgoing sleep once in a while, although it’ll probably leave him yawning his way through work when he gets there later in the morning.

Besides, he’s lonely (and if he’ll admit it, more than a little horny), but the hours seem to crawl by while he waits for the phone to ring. There’s no point trying to read a book, because he just can’t concentrate. There’s nothing on TV that gets his attention, and he can’t start doing housework, because the neighbours would surely complain about the sound of the vacuum cleaner or the washing machine being used at this ungodly hour.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Ryouta calls. Tetsuya picks up on the first ring.

“Hey,” says Ryouta, amused. “Do you really me that much?”

“Yes,” says Tetsuya, unusually honest for once. “I really do.”

There’s silence for a second on the other end, and Ryouta is surprised by his candidness, but then he sighs, wistful. “I miss you too.” But because he doesn’t like it when the mood gets gloomy, he brightens his tone. “So, how’ve you been? Are the kids keeping you busy? Are you eating properly?”

Tetsuya has to remember sometimes, that Ryouta can read him just as well as he can read Ryouta. It’s true that he neglects to feed himself like he knows he should when Ryouta isn’t around, because it doesn’t seem worth the effort when he’s on his own. He never eats much anyway, and with Ryouta almost on the other side of the world, there’s not much point in cooking elaborate meals when he’s not there to enjoy them.

“I’m fine,” he replies, “and so is work. I went over to Kagami-kun and Satsuki-san’s place for dinner tonight.”

“Ah.” Ryouta sounds understanding. “Has your stomach stopped hurting yet?”

It’s not the fault of the food, because Kagami is still very much an excellent cook, and Satsuki isn’t allowed in the kitchen anymore to wreak havoc on the human digestive system with her cooking, but she does, however, mother Tetsuya to death in Ryouta’s absence, and Kagami is forever telling him to eat more, which is why they always end up piling his plate high during mealtimes, and then forcing him to have seconds.

“It’s better now,” Tetsuya admits, “but I don’t think I’ll need to eat again for the rest of the week.” 

Ryouta laughs and it’s music to Tetsuya’s ears. He wants to hear more of the sound, wants to hear more of Ryouta’s voice, and that’s not all. He wants Ryouta himself, at home, in their bed, by Tetsuya’s side where he belongs, but he can’t say that, he can’t be a bother to Ryouta when he’s busy working.

He also can’t hide, not from the person who knows him best and loves him most, and Ryouta is concerned when he next speaks up. “You okay?”

“Yes,” Tetsuya says, the response automatic, but then he bites his lip, tightening his fingers around the phone. “No. Sorry, I just–”

“It’s alright,” Ryouta tells him, “don’t apologise.”

“I don’t want to worry you,” says Tetsuya, firmly, hoping Ryouta will believe him. “I’ll be fine. Really.”

“I wish I could be there,” Ryouta confesses, and it’s like it’s like he’s reading Tetsuya’s mind, like he’s voicing the words he can’t bring himself to say out loud. “I wish I could hold you in my arms. I wish I could kiss you. I wish I could touch you.”

“Me too,” Tetsuya says fervently. “I wish you were here to do all of those things.”

“In that case,” Ryouta suggests, lowering his voice in a way Tetsuya recognises well, “why don’t you try doing it for yourself?”

Tetsuya swallows hard. “What do you mean?” 

“Touch yourself,” Ryouta says. “Pretend it’s me instead.”

It causes Tetsuya’s breath to hitch, his face to fill with heat. “Okay,” he says, fingers trembling in excitement. “Okay. Let me get undressed.”

“Shall I tell you a secret?” Ryouta asks, as Tetsuya slips out of his pyjamas. “I’m already naked.”

Tetsuya pauses, taken-aback, and then he laughs, soft and quiet. “You planned this all along, didn’t you?”

“Yeah.” Ryouta doesn’t bother lying, but Tetsuya isn’t mad. “Are you ready?”

“Give me a second.” There’s something else Tetsuya thinks he’s probably going to need, so he gets the lubricant, making sure the curtains are shut tight before getting comfortable. “Okay,” he says, breathless with anticipation. “I’m ready.”

He closes his eyes, waiting for Ryouta’s voice to wash over him.

“Start with your nipples,” Ryouta instructs. “I know how sensitive you are there.”

Tetsuya can’t deny it. They’re already starting to stiffen, along with his cock, and he reaches down to touch his left nipple, gently at first, just stroking the pad of his thumb over it, and then applying more pressure, twisting it, tugging at it, imagining his fingers are Ryouta’s, that Ryouta’s mouth is on him, biting and licking and sucking.

“Does it feel good?” Ryouta asks.

“Yes,” Tetsuya sighs, shifting his attention to the other nipple.

“Are you hard yet?”

“Mm.”

“Me too.” Ryouta laughs again, rough and throaty. “Actually, I have been for a while now.”

Tetsuya moans, picturing Ryouta’s erection in his mind, remembering its scent, its taste, and his mouth begins to water, a subconscious reaction to the mental image. “I want to suck you off,” he blurts out suddenly, going red. “I want your cock inside my mouth.”

“Fuck,” Ryouta grunts, obviously not expecting that. “I thought I was supposed to be seducing you here?”

Tetsuya curls his fingers lazily around his cock. “I’m pretty sure we can make it work both ways.”

“Will you do it again,” says Ryouta, “talking dirty to me?”

It’s embarrassing, and it’s not something Tetsuya has a lot of experience in, but he’s willing to give it a try, especially if it affects Ryouta this much.

“Hold on,” he tells Ryouta, slicking his fingers and rolling over, bracing his weight on his forearms and lifting up on his knees, thighs apart, ass in the air. 

“What are you doing?”

Pausing, Tetsuya replies, almost in a whisper, “I’m about to put my fingers inside myself.”

Ryouta gives another curse. “I wish I could be there to see it.”

“I wish you could be here to do it for me.” But he’s not, so Tetsuya reaches back, sliding in his middle and index fingers with a gasp, rolling his hips and dragging the tip of his cock over the sheets. 

“Are they in?” 

“Yeah.”

“How many?”

“Just two.”

Ryouta sucks in a breath. “Can you manage three?”

He could manage more, Tetsuya thinks, competitive as ever, because his fingers are small compared to Ryouta’s, and not as long or elegant, so they don’t reach as far as he would like. “It’s not enough,” he moans in frustration. “I need...” He trails off momentarily, pushing his fingers deeper, rocking back against them. “I need your cock.” He moans again, and Ryouta echoes the sound. “Oh god, fuck me, fuck me, please.”

“I wish I could,” Ryouta says, desperate. 

“So do I,” Tetsuya pants out, “because I love it.” Ryouta makes a choked noise, so he does it once more, keeps spilling his dirtiest desires. “I love the way it feels to be fucked. I love the way it feels when you come inside me. I love the way it feels when it’s dripping out of me afterwards, over my ass and my thighs, and how you like to keep me loose with your fingers, when you keep me stretched. I wish I could be like that all the time, open for you. I wish you could keep me filled with your cock and with your come.”

It’s precisely because Ryouta isn’t here that he can be so filthy and shameless, that he can say the kind of things over the phone that he never would to his face, and it’s worth it when Ryouta whimpers helplessly, turned on beyond belief by what he’s hearing.

“Are you trying to kill me?”

Smiling shakily, Tetsuya continues. “I love everything you do to me. I love the way you make me want to spread my legs, the way you make me want to offer myself for the taking. But most of all,” he confides, “I love being such a slut for you.”

They don’t do much talking after that, but it’s okay, because Ryouta can’t manage anything more coherent than moans and grunts, and Tetsuya is too busy fingering himself and rubbing his cock against the mattress. They come together, even though they’re miles apart, just listening to the sound of each other’s breathing as they drift back down to earth.

“That,” Ryouta declares, still catching his breath, “was incredible.”

“Hmm,” Tetsuya agrees, relaxed and totally spent as he settles back against the pillows. 

“We should do it again. Like, tomorrow. Or maybe in another half hour.”

“Tomorrow,” Tetsuya says firmly, checking the clock, “because it’s nearly 3am now and I need to be at work for 7:30.”

“Oh, yeah.” Ryouta sounds guilty. “Tomorrow, then.” 

“Don’t go,” says Tetsuya, before Ryouta can give his goodbyes and hang up. “Just... talk to me for a while, until I fall asleep.”

“Okay,” Ryouta says happily, and Tetsuya closes his eyes, listening to the sound of his voice.


End file.
